I watched her covertly, hoping that she would show some sign of gratification at what I felt to be a high compliment. But she simply remarked that, if such was the case, she supposed the present arrangement had better terminate, thanked him for the trouble he had taken with me, and dismissed the matter. I scanned her cold, beautiful face in vain for any signs of interest. The cloud which had fallen between us on the night of my father’s murder had never been lifted.
The curate stayed to tea with us, and afterwards I walked back through the woods with him, for he was a sociable fellow, fond of company—even mine.
When I reached home again I found my mother looking out for me, and I knew from her manner that she had something important to say to me.
“Philip, I have heard to-day that Mr. Ravenor is expected home,” she said slowly.
I started and a little exclamation of pleasure escaped me. There was no man whom I longed so much to see. What a reputation was his! A scholar of European fame, a poet, and a great sinner; a Crœsus; at times a reckless Sybarite, at others an ascetic and a hermit; a student of Voltaire; the founder of a new school of philosophy. All these things I had heard of him at different times, but as yet I had never seen him. Something more than my curiosity had been excited and I looked forward now to its gratification.
My mother took no note of my exclamation, but her brow darkened. We were standing together on the lawn in front of the house and she was in the shadow of a tall cypress tree.
“I do not suppose that he will remain here long,” she continued, in a hard, strained tone; “but while he is at the Castle it is my wish that you do not enter the park at all.”
“Not enter the park!” I repeated the words and stared at my mother in blank astonishment. What difference could Mr. Ravenor’s presence make to us?
“Surely you do not mean this?” I cried, bitterly disappointed. “Why, I have been looking forward for years to see Mr. Ravenor! He is a famous man!”
“I know it,” she interrupted, “and a very dangerous one. I do not wish you to meet him. The chances are that he would not notice you if he saw you, but it is better to run no risks. You will remember what I have said? A man of his strange views and principles is to be avoided—especially by an impressionable boy like you.”